


Never Too Busy

by SuperHeroTiger



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Fever, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, IronDad and SpiderSon, Irondad, Kid Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Vomiting, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperHeroTiger/pseuds/SuperHeroTiger
Summary: Peter knew when he woke up on that cold, dreary morning covered in a sheen of sweat and aching all over that he should tell someone. He knew somewhere in the back of his head that he should stay at home and rest a while longer. And he most definitely knew that going to school in his condition would be a major mistake, a potential disaster just waiting to happen.Still, Peter was a Stark, and Starks were nothing if not stubborn....(BioDad AU sick fic for the Friendly Neighbourhood Exchange!)
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Happy Hogan & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 15
Kudos: 393
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	Never Too Busy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myyszka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myyszka/gifts).



> Hi everyone!  
> This fun one-shot is for the Friendly Neighbourhood Exchange using the prompts 'BioDad AU' and 'Sick Fic', as requested by the giftee of this fic, Myyszka! If you reading this Myyszka I really hope you enjoy the following story, I tried to put as much fluff in as possible but I am also a notorious angst writer so hurt/comfort is extremely prominent ahead (Happy ending though, promise!), as well as a few Ironfamily moments. For everybody else I hope you enjoy it reading this as much as I did writing it, and I hope you all have an amazing day!
> 
> -Superherotiger

Peter knew when he woke up on that cold, dreary morning covered in a sheen of sweat and aching all over that he should tell someone. He knew somewhere in the back of his head that he should stay at home and rest a while longer. And he most definitely knew that going to school in his condition would be a _major_ mistake, a potential disaster just waiting to happen.

Still, Peter was a Stark, and Starks were nothing if not stubborn.

So forcing himself out of bed and pointedly ignoring the wave of nausea that rolled in his stomach, Peter slid his glasses over his nose and sluggishly changed into the faded constellation shirt and pair of jeans that his father had left neatly folded on his desk. Like any six-year-old, Peter had been on an independence kick, assuring his father that he was completely and utterly capable of getting himself ready for school without the man’s help. Tony had just given him an amused smile and promised to leave Peter to it, only stepping in if the boy wasn’t out of his room by the middle of breakfast or if he needed help.

And usually Peter loved the freedom, loved the rush of accomplishment he felt when he stood in front of the mirror before school with smoothed down hair and a full backpack hitched on his little shoulders. But that morning Peter was feeling anything but capable, wandering around his room like a zombie until he’d haphazardly packed his bag and tried to comb down the wild chestnut curls on his head. Even in the mirror he knew he still looked half asleep, but after washing his face multiple times with little to no difference, Peter finally gave up and hauled himself into the kitchen, hoping he didn’t look as lethargic as he felt.

When Peter entered the kitchen he was surprised -and a little thankful- that his dad was already on a phone call, a cell phone pressed to his ear as he grumbled about business and statistics that went far over Peter’s head. The man was already dressed in one of his fancy suits, his hair finely gelled into line and a stack of important papers scattered across the bench top that Peter avoided as he climbed onto a stool. There must be an important meeting today for his father to look so tense, Peter thought.

But the moment Tony turned and caught sight of his son, the lines across his face eased into a fond smile, stepping over to ruffle Peter’s hair affectionately before moving towards the fridge. “I don’t care what Obadiah says, there’s no way in hell I’m going to sit down with Justin Hammer,” Tony said as he started to make Peter’s breakfast with one hand, the other holding the cellphone in place as he added with a snap “ _Yes,_ that means cancel the meeting. What did you think it means? Invite him for dinner?”

Peter might have laughed if he didn’t feel like he was going to fall off his seat any moment now, his head spinning like a top as Tony pushed the bowl of cereal in front of his son distractedly. The man continued to argue with the person on the phone while Peter tried to keep his breakfast down in a haze. He felt hot… was it always this hot? Peter looked over at his father, at his long-sleeved shirt and jacket and the lack of sweat that beaded his face and wondered why his own skin felt so clammy. He thought the cold cereal might have eased the heat in his blood but instead the milk just curdled in his stomach like a looming storm, heavy and foreboding and yet another sign that Peter should stay at home.

For a moment, Peter considered telling Tony how sick he was feeling. He imagined falling back into his soft, comfy bed and sleeping for hours on end, his father’s gentle humming soothing him into a peaceful slumber…

But Peter’s hopes of respite shattered in front of his very eyes when he heard Tony say sharply into the receiver “Yeah, yeah. You tell Obadiah that I will _definitely_ be at the meeting today. No need to worry his pretty, balding head over it, alright?”

And with a final dramatic eyeroll Tony cut the line, dragging his hand down his face before turning back towards the kitchen. Peter tried to mask the emptiness in his expression, but it only took a single glance at his son’s drooping shoulders and half-finished bowl of cereal for Tony to know something was wrong. “You right buddy?” he asked, immediately dropping his voice to a soft tone that he had not graced Stane’s secretary with just a few moments ago.

Peter nodded swiftly, still too uncertain of his queasy stomach to speak just yet.

But if his pale appearance and tired eyes weren’t a dead giveaway before, then his uncanny silence sent alarm bells ringing in Tony’s head. Rounding the benchtop until he stood beside the boy, Peter pointedly avoided looking up at his father until Tony ran his fingers through Peter’s soft, brown curls, tilting Peter’s chin with his finger until he was forced to meet his gaze. Tony’s expression dropped with concern the moment he took in his son’s condition.

“You don’t look so good Underoos,” he started, his voice so soothing to Peter’s drumming headache.

“M’ fine…” Peter managed to muster.

But Tony ignored his blatant lie and just pushed the hair off his sweaty forehead, his lips drawing into a tight line as he said “You’re feeling a bit warm kiddo. You sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Yeah- yeah, I’m good, I promise,” Peter said through a forced smile. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Tony hesitated for a moment, seemingly deciding whether or not to believe him, before offering softly “How about we stay in today, huh? We’ll put on a movie, and you can sleep on the couch-“

“No!” Peter exclaimed, startling the both of them, before he amended quickly “You- you’ve got meetings and stuff. I… I don’t wanna get in your way.”

A saddened smile tilted at Tony’s lips, cooing gently “You’re never in my way _bambino.”_

Peter paused at the name, blinking up at his father with wide eyes. Out of every nickname Tony used for his son -ranging from Pete to kid to buddy to Underoos-, bambino was Peter’s favourite. It felt softer. _Safer..._ And Tony’s eyes -so usually filled with confidence and knowledge- would always glaze over with that warm, hazy adoration when he said it.

Which only made Peter’s guilt fester that much more when he thought about all the other things Tony had to worry about today. His Dad was a busy person, Peter knew that. And as much as Tony said it wouldn’t, Peter didn’t want to bother the man with his silly headache, and he certainly didn’t want to get him in trouble for skipping another meeting.

So against his better judgement, Peter pushed Tony’s hand away and assured him with his best smile “I’m fine Dad, I promise. I just had a bad sleep.”

Peter knew it didn’t sound convincing, but he watched anxiously as a flurry of thoughts flashed across Tony’s gaze, considering his son’s condition with a careful eye and probably weighing up if missing his meeting was worth the wrath of a certain Pepper Potts.

A beat passed. Then another. But the fear of his assistant must have won out in the end as Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s hairline and murmured “Alright Underoos, but you tell your teacher if you start to feel worse, okay?”

“I will, promise,” Peter lied again, mustering another smile as he added “I’m feeling better already.”

Tony hummed sceptically, before ruffling the boy’s hair and finally stepping away. “Alright then bud, grab your bag and let’s hit the road.”

And as Peter threw his backpack over his shoulders again, he ignored the way the floor tilted when he jumped down from the stool and promised himself that he would make it through the day. That he would be fine, just like he’d told his father, and that he would come home from school and rest the headache off later. After all, it was only a couple of hours. He could survive a little bit of dizziness, surely.

And after the first half of the day seemed to pass by in a blur, Peter really thought that he was going to pull it off. Truly, he did.

Of course, that all changed when lunch rolled around, and before Peter had even taken a third bite of his sandwich he was running to the bathroom and unceremoniously heaving into the toilet bowl. It didn’t take long for one of the teachers to find him, and after patting his back reassuringly as they waited out the waves of nausea, she lead Peter to lay down on the office couch with a bucket and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His small frame was wracked with shivers despite the sweat that seemed to soak every inch of his skin, and his stomach still ached from the cereal that had come back for round two just a few minutes ago.

But in spite of all his discomfort, Peter felt himself begin to slip into the darkness of a long-needed sleep, a familiar voice ringing over the phone before he fully succumbed to slumber…

* * *

…

* * *

As Tony had predicted, the meeting was as boring as ever. Just the same old men droning on about the same old news for hours on end, wasting precious time he could have spent down in his lab -or even better- taking the day off with Peter.

Tony tapped his pen against the glass table absentmindedly as he thought back to his son.

He had looked so pale in the morning, so reserved compared to his usually bubbly personality, and it didn’t slip Tony’s notice that he hadn’t finished his breakfast either. But Peter had been so stubborn about going to school, and Tony knew better than to argue when he had his heart set on something. The kid was as stubborn as a mule, which admittedly, was a trait Tony hadn’t been so proud of passing on in hindsight.

But still, Tony couldn’t stop his mind from drifting back to that morning and wondering if he should have just forced Peter to stay at home, objection or no. Pepper would have understood, she always did when it came to Peter. Besides, it wasn’t like he was being very productive at this meeting anyway thanks to the ever-distracting thoughts of his sick child orbiting around his head on an endless cycle.

And as if his incessant worrying over Peter had spurred the universe into action, Tony snapped to attention when he saw Pepper trying to slip into the boardroom unnoticed, pointedly ignoring the stares from the other board members as she approached Tony with a grim expression. “Peter’s school called,” she said, soft enough that only he could hear.

But it didn’t matter, because within seconds he was on his feet and pacing towards the door with a determined glint in his eye. Obadiah tried to call his name but Tony just threw a lazy _“Family issues”_ over his shoulder before slamming the door behind him and Pepper conclusively, drawing in a relieved and simultaneously worried breath before gesturing for Pepper to join him down the hallway.

“How is he?” Tony asked, suddenly regretting leaving his phone on silent and not taking the call himself.

“Sleeping at the moment,” Pepper said swiftly. “He threw up after lunch, but the teachers said he was looking lethargic since he arrived. They said he’s got a temperature too.”

“Damnit, I knew I should have kept him at home,” Tony scolded himself as they paced into the elevator. “Do me a favour and reschedule all my appointments for today Pep.”

“Already done,” she replied, the hint of a smile gracing her lips.

Tony felt his own tilt into a smirk, saying light-heartedly “You’re an angel, Miss Potts.”

Glancing up with her dazzling blue eyes, Tony felt his heart flutter against his ribcage as she quipped “Flattery doesn’t work on me, _Mister Stark_.”

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Tony mused as the elevator opened up into the garage, Happy already leaning against a silver Audi with what appeared to be an impatient frown on his face. Tony knew better than the driver’s stony façade though and simply put it down to worry for his unofficial nephew.

Pacing over to the car door Happy held open, Tony spun around to face Pepper one last time and called “Thanks Pep. I owe you one!”

She rolled her eyes light-heartedly, opening her mouth to shoot back a sarcastic comment, before suddenly hesitating. Her lips drew into a thin line as a flash of heaviness passed her eyes, her expression softening at the last moment as she called back “Just take care of our boy.”

Tony smiled fondly, some kind of understanding passing between their locked gazes, before lowering himself into the car without another word. They didn’t need to speak though. They all knew exactly what Tony’s answer would be.

_I’ll always take care of my boy…_

* * *

…

* * *

When Tony finally arrived at Peter’s school -undisguised besides an old baseball cap that Happy had thrown at him at the last second- he stepped inside and made a B-line for the receptionist who melted into a stammering mess the moment she recognised his face. Usually Tony would be amused by seeing someone so flustered in his presence, but his concern over Peter had had nothing but time to fester on the car ride there, and the only thing he wanted right now was to see his son. So, in a polite but urgent voice, Tony prompted “I got a call about my son, Peter. They said he’s been sick.”

“Oh! Oh, of course,” the woman stumbled out, trying to mask it with a forced laugh before picking up the phone in haste. The receptionist informed whoever was on the other end of the line that Tony Stark had arrived and barely a minute later another older lady stepped out of the adjoining office.

Tony recognised her as one of Peter’s teachers but couldn’t remember a name for the life of him, staring at her expectantly as she offered a reassuring smile. “He’s got a fever but he’s been resting since I called,” she said, skipping introductions in favour of soothing the concern in his eyes.

Tony nodded thankfully, opening his mouth to speak when she seemingly read his mind again and asked “Would you like to see him now, Mr Stark?”

He couldn’t help the relieved sigh that released at her words. “Yes, please.”

“Right this way,” she said warmly, leading him through the door she had emerged from and stepping aside for him to enter the dainty little office. A desk with carefully ordered papers stood to the left with some kind of break room branching off to the right, coffee table and couch included. But what really caught Tony’s attention was the bundle of blankets coiled up on said couch, a mop of curly brown hair peaking out just beneath the cozy cocoon.

Smiling, Tony approached the resting figure and knelt down beside the seat, brushing his fingers ever so gently across the boy’s soft hair.

A hum vibrated from the blankets a moment later, torn between relief and discomfort.

“Hey kiddo,” Tony murmured gently. “Time to wake up buddy.”

There was no response at first, just the gentle rise and fall of the blankets with his quiet breaths. But then slowly, the fabric shifted to revealed those big doe eyes once more, twisting Tony’s heart with just how exhausted they truly were. Resting his hand against Peter’s pale cheek, Tony flashed a smile and said in a gentle whisper “Hey Underoos, you gave us all a bit of a scare there.”

Peter just blinked up at him with unfocused eyes, squinting. “Dad?” he croaked, his voice sounding painfully gravelly.

“Yeah Pete, it’s me. I’m here to take you home,” Tony said soothingly.

But instead of seeing relief cross the boy’s face like he’d expected, his nose scrunched up into an adorable little frown before he hid his face into the pillow with a moan. “ _No_ … big meeting… lots’ve work…” he slurred, obviously still battling slumber as well as the fever.

“The meeting doesn’t matter buddy, all that matters is _you_ , alright?” Tony assured him almost immediately. He tried not to think about how his own father had never said anything close to those words his entire childhood, how he would have scoffed at the mere suggestion. But Tony wasn’t Howard. He wasn’t- he _couldn’t_ be. Not for Peter, he had to be better-

Turning his head just enough to peek up at his father with one tired eye, Peter asked meekly “Aren’t you busy…?”

Tony’s smile softened further.

_I’m not Howard._

“I’m never too busy for you, bambino.”

Peter met Tony’s gaze unblinkingly, searching for something… something Tony couldn’t describe. But the boy must have found what he was looking for in the end as he suddenly slumped down into the cushions, the energy leaving his body like a puppet cut from its strings. “M’ tired…” he admitted weakly, face still squashed into the pillow.

Combing his fingers through Peter’s hair one final time, Tony replied encouragingly “I know buddy, but we’ll get you home and bundle you up so you can sleep all you want. Sound good?”

Peter hummed in approval, lifting his hand up from the confines of the blanket to grip onto his father’s fingers weakly. “M’ sorry I didn’t tell you this morning,” he mumbled, blinking sluggishly again before he added in a whisper “Wanted t’be strong… like _you_ …”

Tony’s heart somehow melted even further at his son’s soft praise until he couldn’t resist but scoop the boy out of the blankets and into the arms of his tight embrace. Peter returned the hug with as much energy as he could muster, squeezing his arms around Tony’s neck before relaxing into the hold with a relieved sigh. For a brief moment, Tony closed his eyes and just breathed in the comfort that Peter’s presence seemed to always fill him with. It grounded him. Reminded him to live in the moment. And Tony hoped that years in the future, when Peter had grown up into the strong man he was destined to become, he would still remember these little moments between them, soft and warm and _peaceful_ as it was.

But feeling Peter’s grip start to loosen with impeding exhaustion, Tony lifted the boy up and made his way back to the door, exchanging a brief glance with the teacher who was waiting by with a fond smile on her lips. She held out Peter’s backpack until he could hook his fingers around the handle and nodded towards her gratefully, arms occupied with the 5-year old that was growing sleepier by the second. And after gazing at Tony approvingly for another second or two, she turned her eyes to the boy and cooed “Get better soon Peter.”

“Hm…Bye, bye miss…” he mumbled into Tony’s collar, earning a short laugh from both adults.

And with a final wave from over Tony’s shoulder, both Starks were on their way back home again, Peter resting heavily against his father’s side the entire ride back. He was still shivering despite the heat radiating off his clammy skin which led Tony to wrap his jacket around the boy’s small shoulders, Happy casting him concerned glances through the rear view mirror every now and then. Knowing that Happy wouldn’t appreciate Tony calling out such softness, the man just ran his fingers through Peter’s sweaty curls in soothing motions instead, aware of how much discomfort the fever could be giving his poor son. He hoped the gentle touch would calm Peter’s mind as his body fought off the sickness, and maybe… just maybe, it calmed Tony as well.

When they finally arrived at the mansion, Happy was quick to open the car door and help Tony lift Peter out of the backseat, cradling the boy in a surprisingly soft manner as Tony collected Peter’s belongings from the boot. And when the comically undersized backpack was secured to Tony’s shoulder, Happy carefully transferred the sleeping boy back into his father’s arms with a warmth that Tony rarely witnessed in the driver’s sharp eyes.

“Rest up kid and you’ll be better in no time,” Happy said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

And since Peter was still out to it, Tony felt it was only necessary to answer on his behalf, suggesting lightly “Why don’t you drop by later Hap? Preferably when Pete’s not half dead.”

Happy scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Eh, I’m sure the kid’ll be fine.”

“You know he’ll be pretty upset if doesn’t get his daily visit from _Uncle Happy_ ,” Tony smirked, knowing exactly what to say to sway the man’s resolve.

Happy, seemingly picking up on the subtle manipulation, quirked his brow disapproving before moving to start the car again. “I’ve gotta meet up with Pepper, you just take care of the kid alright?” he called, slipping on his sunglasses to hide the shred of emotion threatening to break out over his face. “Tell Pete I said hi.”

“You can tell him yourself this afternoon Hogan,” Tony chuckled as he began walking towards the house, a sharp grunt sounding from behind before the car was rolling out of the driveway again.

Peter muttered something unintelligible as they made it up the winding staircase, Tony finding himself naturally starting to sway to lull him back to sleep and feeling a bit old when his back began to protest in response. But as soon as he pushed through into Peter’s room, Tony glanced up at the roof and whispered “Jar, dim the lights will you?”

“Yes sir,” the AI replied at once, automatically lowering the blinds and casting the room into a veil of warm shadows.

Peter was still stone-cold unconscious by the time Tony was lowering him into his bed, which the man quickly realised was both a blessing and a curse as he awkwardly tried to manoeuvre the boy into a comfortable position. Anyone who said trying to move a sleeping five year was easy was a downright _liar_. But before long, Peter was safely tucked under the sheets with his favourite stuffed bear looped under his arm, peaceful except for the layer of sweat still coating his pale skin.

Tony ducked into the bathroom and wet a washer as soon as Jarvis read out Peter’s steadily climbing temperature, wiping the boy’s face gently before laying the cool cloth across his forehead. A deep sigh followed moments after, and Tony took that as sign of success, dragging a nearby chair over to settle down for the afternoon. He didn’t exactly _need_ to stay, but he wanted to be close by in case Peter woke up suddenly or if his fever got any higher.

That, and he didn’t want Peter to think that anything else in the world could be more important than his kid.

Peter meant everything to Tony, and the idea that his own son hadn’t told him how sick he was because of his job scared him. It echoed far too closely to Tony’s own childhood, too closely to days he spent holed away in his room, sickly and tired and wishing for nothing more than for his parents to come in and comfort him. Howard had never done that for him. Had never in the middle of a meeting for his son or carried him to the car while he slept or waited by his bedside as he battled a fever. Tony would never understand how Howard had been so detached from his own child that he rejected everything it meant to be a father. Everything that Tony had grown to love when Peter came into his world.

So if sitting at his son’s bedside and riding out the waves of this fever would remind Peter that he was, no matter what, Tony’s number one priority, then he would do it again and again and again until Peter never doubted his place in Tony’s heart. Peter didn’t have to face the world alone because Tony would always be there for him. And though patience wasn’t inherently a Stark trait, Tony was prepared to push everything else aside for his boy, anything to let Peter know how much he loved him.

Even if, much to Tony’s dismay, it meant facing another bout of lectures from Pepper Potts for bailing on yet _another_ meeting.

* * *

…

* * *

Drifting through a haze of darkness, Peter heard voices ebbing in and out of focus around him, familiar yet somehow out of reach.

“…How’s he doing Tones…?”

That voice was commanding, but, soft. Peter thought he liked that voice.

“…He’s alright… temperature hasn’t gone down though…”

That one sounded closer and… worried? Peter wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t like that it sounded so sad.

The voices continued to wash in and out, like the waves of the ocean lapping against the shoreline.

“…He’s been asleep for a couple hours…”

“…thinking I should wake him up…”

“…medicine might be a good idea…”

“…wish I’d picked it up sooner…”

“…Nothing you could’ve done Tones…”

Piece by piece, Peter pulled his conscience back together until he could feel his body again through a hazy kind of filter. The blood pumping through his veins felt hot and sluggish, and his head still swayed like a ship on rough waters. But at a cool touch on his forehead, Peter turned towards the direction of the voices and forced his eyelids to open, blinking at the new shade of darkness that covered his surroundings.

Something shifted in front of him as the room fell into silence, a calloused but gentle hand resting on his cheek. “Hey buddy…” the second voice whispered. “You awake?”

Peter tried to speak but it came out more as a pained groan.

“Oh, _il mio povero bambino_ ,” the voice sighed, the hand beginning to card through his hair in a surprisingly familiar manner.

Peter hummed contentedly as he leant into the touch, almost tempted to slip back into slumber before his muscles began to ache uncomfortably again. The longer he stayed awake the worse the pain became, and before long he was forced to clench his teeth against a wave of nausea that crashed into his body.

The hand in his hair stilled at the reaction, and when Peter’s vision cleared he was met with the depths of his father’s concerned eyes. After a dragging moment, Peter tried to gather his voice and ask why his dad looked so worried, but even his thoughts seemed scattered beneath the pain. In the end he just huffed and curled his knees to his chest, hoping it would get the message across.

And just like the mind-reader he was, Tony asked gently “Does it hurt Pete?”

Peter answered with a grunt that the man thankfully understood, and after offering a comforting smile, Tony rose back to his feet and explained in that same gentle voice “I’m going to duck out and get you some medicine and food, alright buddy? And don’t worry, you’ve got a special guest here to keep you company.”

Blinking up at his father’s blurry figure, Peter finally noticed the man standing just beside his shoulder, his kind smile and friendly eyes suddenly so clear in his mind. A weak smile immediately lit up Peter’s features.

“Un-cle Rho…dey…” he managed to stumble out.

“Hey champ,” Rhodey greeted as he took his place on the chair Tony had just vacated, shooing Tony out of the room before turning his whole attention to the boy again. “Your dad told me you weren’t doing so well today so I thought I’d drop by. How you feeling?”

Peter blinked, fighting away the sluggishness. “Hm… it’s hot… m’ head, hurts…”

“I bet it does,” Rhodey replied, resting his hand over Peter’s wrist sympathetically. “But your Dad’s taking good care of you, and before you know it you’ll be back to building LEGO forts and reading science books all day long.”

Peter hummed approvingly at that, allowing his eyelids to fall shut with the knowledge that he was in in safe hands still. “Uncle Rhodey?” he managed to say coherently after a few more moments of silence passed.

“Yeah champ?”

“C’n you tell me a story…?”

Squeezing his hand tenderly, Rhodey answered “Of course buddy. What kind of story?”

“Mm… an’thing…” Peter said, feeling the tug of darkness starting to quell the ache in his bones.

After a moment to think on it, Rhodey delved into a story from his college days with lighthearted jokes and playful banter, his voice so calm and welcoming that it was almost impossible for Peter not to be lulled into slumber. He thought he might have heard another voice break through the darkness just before he completely drifted away, but he couldn’t have held onto it if he tried.

He did however feel the thumb that stroked the back of his hand in soothing circles, Rhodey’s gentle voice echoing in his ears before he finally gave in to the shadows.

“Sleep well Pete, we’ll be right here with you…”

* * *

…

* * *

Tony stayed by Peter’s side the entire day just as he had promised, only stepping out of the room when Rhodey had been around to watch him. By the time Tony had gotten medicine and a homemade soup ready for the boy he had already fallen back asleep to Rhodey’s wistful stories of the past, his face thankfully eased of the pain that had twisted it before. Rhodey hung around for a little while after that, sharing a late lunch with Tony and mocking his friend’s lacklustre soup before finally saying goodbye with a friendly pat on the shoulder. At Rhodey’s request, Tony had promised to keep him updated on Peter’s condition, much like Happy and Pepper who had also been keeping tabs on them throughout the day with the occasional text or two.

An hour after Rhodey had said his goodbyes Peter started to grow restless again, shifting back and forth beneath the sheets as his face contorted with discomfort. Unable to watch his son in agony for long, Tony gently rocked Peter awake and helped him to sit against the backboard, pressing the cool washer to his face before convincing him to take the bitter tasting medicine. Peter visibly recoiled at the flavour, possibly explaining why he was so keen to eat the soup that Tony offered only a few moments later. A victory, Tony thought at first. A victory he would later regret.

But when half of the soup had been successfully held down the Starks were graced with a surprise visit from none other than Pepper and Happy themselves. Pepper came bearing gentle encouragement and warm hugs while Happy stoically handed the boy a new teddy bear, a gift Happy would deny ever buying despite the pride that shimmered in his eyes when Peter hugged it to his chest adoringly. And though Peter’s expression was still heavy with exhaustion, he smiled and hummed and talked with the three adults that had settled down at his bedside, trying his best to remain social despite the sickness that still lingered in each tired breath. Tony assured him he didn’t have to, but Peter seemed adamant to stay awake for his guests this time.

So, figuring he was in good hands, Tony collected the half-finished soup and sweat-soaked cloth to clean out in the kitchen, thinking he’d get a fresh bowl ready in case he got hungry again.

Turns out Peter’s stomach had other plans however, because barely five minutes after he’d left to get a new cloth for Peter’s head Pepper rushed out of the bedroom with a stern “We need a bucket, ASAP.”

Tony cursed under his breath and rushed to grab a container from the kitchen, running into Peter’s room only to find it empty and smelling of something sour. An awful sound echoed from the attached bathroom before he could wonder for long though, and with Pepper at his heel they both stepped in to find Peter leaning over the toilet bowl, heaving all his insides out as Happy awkwardly pat his back to comfort him.

“M’ sorry, I’m sorry!” Peter sobbed out before his shoulders trembled with another wave of bile.

“Don’t be sorry kid, it’s fine, it’s fine,” Happy tried to reassure him, though panic still cracked the edges of his voice. “Just get it out kid, it’s gonna be alright.”

As Tony rushed forward he saw Peter lift his head and glance up at the driver, tears streaming down his face as he said miserably “Y-Your, your j-jacket… I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine kid, it’s just clothing. It’ll wash out easily,” Happy replied, drawing Tony’s attention to the stained suit jacket that had been discarded in bathtub.

Shaking his head to focus, Tony knelt down on the tiled floor beside Peter and began gently murmuring encouragements in his ear, gripping onto the boy’s shoulders to keep him grounded and steady. There was nothing more he could do but rub Peter’s back and stay by his side throughout the awful wretches, vaguely aware of Happy and Pepper’s concerned hovering as they waited it out with them. A silent but constant support.

Eventually, Peter’s stomach began to settle and the tears drew to a stop, though the exhaustion had come back tenfold if the way Peter’s head was drooping was any indication. Without even needing to be asked Pepper wet a washer and switched places with Happy at the boy’s side, wiping away the trails of spit and bile that had fallen on his chin and massaging circles into the crown of his head with her other hand. “You did so well sweetheart,” she cooed, her voice as sweet as honey. “Do you want to go to bed or do you think there might be more?”

Peter breathed heavily into the porcelain bowl, energy all but depleted, before croaking back “Sleep… _p-please…”_

“Alright honey, lets get you up then,” she smiled.

Carefully, Tony pulled Peter into his arms and lifted them back to his feet, nodding gratefully at Pepper and Happy as he stepped past them into the bedroom. The sheets were still stained from the unexpected turn of events so he’d have to set Peter up in his room for now, and after a closer inspection, Tony realised Peter’s shirt would also needed to be changed, sitting the weary boy at his desk as he grabbed a new set of pyjamas.

As soon as Peter was dressed in fresh clothes and tucked back into Tony’s embrace, Pepper flashed the man a sympathetic smile and said “Take Peter to bed, we’ll handle the washing.”

“Thank you… both of you,” Tony said, his voice thick with gratitude.

Twisting a lock of Peter’s hair around her finger, Pepper smiled down at the boy’s resting face and pressed a kiss to his hairline. “Get better soon sweetheart,” she hummed as Happy stepped forward and offered a little nod of encouragement.

Smiling, Tony made sure to grab the stuffed bear Happy had gifted Peter before leaving the room, repressing a laugh at the way Happy glared at him as he did so. Tony couldn’t have asked for better friends. Friends that loved his son almost as much as he did, and wanted nothing more than for him to be healthy and happy again. They were his family - _Peter’s_ family- and he couldn’t be more grateful for it.

Getting a sleeping Peter to lie down in bed was -unsurprisingly- just as difficult as the first time, but Tony couldn’t help but sigh in relief once he was tucked under the sheets in a cozy cocoon again. Once certain he was comfortable, Tony slipped out of the room to quickly grab a container in case Peter was sick, a bottle of water and a fresh cool cloth for his fever. After everything was set up where it was easy to reach -determined not to make another mistake like last time-, Tony sat at Peter’s side and carefully wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Tony wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, just pressing the washer to Peter’s face and hoping his temperature would drop soon. It could have been minutes, maybe even hours. Tony wouldn’t know at this point. All he knew was that this was one of those moments, those quiet, domestic moments that he wanted to remember forever.

But after Jarvis informed him that Peter’s temperature hadn’t increased since falling asleep, Tony finally put the cloth aside and moved to grab a chair, ready to settle in for the next few hours of waiting that was ahead. He was stopped before he could even take a single step however, glancing down in surprise at the little hand that had gotten a weak grip on his fingers and smiling at the doe eyes staring back at him blearily.

“Hey Pete,” he said, his voice the level of a whisper as he lowered himself back to the edge of the bed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Peter just blinked at him, seemingly about to fall asleep once more before his grip suddenly tightened and he asked, almost pleadingly “…Stay…?”

Squeezing his hand reassuringly, Tony replied “I’m right here Underoos. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“No… _stay_ …” Peter grunted, jutting his chin towards the vacant side of the bed.

Tony sighed, already knowing he couldn’t resist such an adorable request, but asking regardless “Will you go to sleep if I do?”

Peter hummed as his eyes fell shut again, mumbling out a string of ‘ _yes, yes’_ before patting the empty space as a final confirmation for Tony to join him. Tony exhaled heavily -though there was no real frustration behind it- and rounded the bed to join his son for a well-deserved rest. It wasn’t until he laid his head on the pillow that he realised just how tired he really was, the events of the day finally catching up to him with a radiating ache in his bones, before shifting onto his side when he felt Peter turn to face him.

The boy’s young face was still blotched red from the fever, but for the first time that day, Peter’s eyes seemed crystal clear, his thoughts so present in his gaze.

But in the end, it was his voice that cut the deepest.

“You’re the best Dad ever…”

Tony could have sworn his heart stopped right then and there, heat springing to his eyes without warning. He opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t find the words. After all, what could he ever say to get Peter to understand the weight of such a claim? How much it struck Tony in his heart because he knew- he _knew_ he’d made mistakes and probably would do so for many years to come, but he wanted to do better. He wanted to _be_ better, and he owed it all to Peter.

So lifting his hand to rest on Peter’s cheek, Tony hoped the absolute love that was over flowing from his chest was reflected in his eyes as he stated firmly “And you, Peter, are the best son in the world. The _galaxy_ even.”

Peter’s lips tugged into a smile despite his growing weariness, fingers tightening around his father’s hand as he murmured faintly “Love you... to th’ moon n’ back…”

Unconsciousness claimed the boy again only moments after, but Tony still leant forward and pressed a kiss to his hairline, tears spilling down his cheeks as he wondered what he’d done to deserve such an amazing child.

“I love you too, _bambino_.”


End file.
